Chapter 9
Doris hadn’t noticed that Lewis’s expression had darkened further, a storm cloud settling over his face. She continued, oblivious to his growing displeasure. “It’s great to be rich, isn’t it? Luxury cars at their beck and call, complete with chauffeurs and bodyguards.
“Meanwhile, people like me are up at the crack of dawn, dragging ourselves half–asleep onto crammed subways and buses. Being broke is just miserable. You tell me, how is life so unfair?”
Her words grated on Lewis’s nerves. They struck a chord he didn’t want to acknowledge. “You want to be rich?” he asked, his voice turning frostier, carrying an edge she couldn’t miss.
Doris took a sip of water, as if to wash away the bitterness of her reality. “Who doesn’t? If I had money, I wouldn’t have to do this soul–crushing eight–to–six grind every day. Working myself to the bone for scraps? No, thank you. With money, half my problems would disappear”
In her mind, wealth meant freedom–a cozy apartment she could call her own, a sanctuary where she could finally breathe. That was why she worked so hard, saving every penny, determined to make her dream a reality.
But to Lewis, her words painted a different picture entirely. ‘Is she just looking for an easy way out? A shortcut to success?‘ he thought, his disdain settling deeper. I can’t stand people who are greedy and lazy.
Though his face betrayed nothing, his internal judgment was harsh. “Well,” he said coolly, “maybe you Hartman family heir instead of me. That would make you rich and solve all your problems in an instant.”
The comment blindsided Doris, and she choked on her water, coughing uncontrollably.
I marry t
Her eyes darted to Lewis, guilt flickering in her gaze. She had, after all, once boasted to Lola about wanting to marry the Hartman family heir. ‘How could he hit so close to the mark?” she wondered.
Snapping back to reality, she quickly explained, “The Hartman family heir? That’s a pipe dream. I’m just an ordinary person, and he’s way out of my league. I’d never delude myself with something so unrealistic.”
“Glad to see you’re at least self–aware, Lewis said sharply, his piercing gaze sweeping over her. “Most troubles come from greed and unchecked desires.
Doris blinked in confusion, his words throwing her off balance. ‘Is he saying I’m greedy? That I want too much? she wondered.
Then she tilted her head and asked, “Mr. Hartman, I’m curious. What kind of woman do you think would be lucky enough to marry someone like the heir of the Hartman family?”
Lewis’s reply was as cold as steel. “Definitely not someone like you.”
His words cut deeper than she expected. “What’s that supposed to mean? What do you mean, ‘someone like me?” she shot back, indignant.
“You’re not his type,” Lewis answered matter–of–factly, as if it were the most obvious truth in the world.
“And how would you know that?” Doris pressed, suspicious.
“Because I just know, Lewis thought, though he didn’t voice it aloud.
Undeterred, she pushed on. “You’re not the Hartman family heir, and he’s never even met me. How would he know what type I am? Who’s to say he wouldn’t fall head over heels for me at first sight?”
Lewis rose abruptly, his face growing colder by the second. His tone was clipped and dismissive. “Go to bed. Dream all you
want.”
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Chapter 9
The underlying message was crystal clear. He smirked inwardly. Stop daydreaming. There’s no way someone like me would
As he walked away, leaving her stunned and confused, Doris stared after him, trying to piece together what had just happened. She pondered. “Moments ago, everything was fine. So why did Lewis suddenly turn so cold?
The next morning. Doris woke up early, deciding to treat herself to a homemade breakfast.
While the hotel offered complimentary staff meals, she’d grown weary of the monotony.
Today, she planned to whip up some quesadillas–a recipe that had tantalized her taste buds the previous night while scrolling through Tik Tok.
Meanwhile, Lewis maintained his unyielding routine, returning from his morning run drenched in sweat, exuding an aura of raw masculinity. Every move he made seemed calculated to mesmerize. He was a walking enigma, radiating a kind of magnetic pull that Doris found impossible to ignore.
After his shower, he emerged in a crisp white shirt that clung perfectly to his athletic frame, hinting at the well–defined muscles beneath. Draped casually over his strong arm was a black suit jacket, its elegance a striking contrast to his powerful
presence.
Doris stole a glance at him, unable to stop her thoughts. ‘He’s just a regular guy, isn’t he? So why does he look like he walked straight out of a luxury magazine? Elegant and refined, yet so unattainable, she mused.
Lewis placed his jacket on the sofa with effortless grace before pulling out a chair and sitting down. “What’s that?” he asked, his sharp sense of smell catching the enticing aroma wafting from the kitchen. “Quesadillas,” Doris replied with a cheerful smile. “They’re delicious. Want to try some, Mr. Hartman?”
“No, thank you.” His tone was polite but firm. Lewis had a strict aversion to high–carb foods, and this was no exception.
Doris, undeterred, picked up her fork, taking a generous bite. Her eyes fluttered shut as a blissful expression spread across her face, the kind of joy that could only come from truly savoring food. She looked as if she’d stumbled upon the greatest culinary treasure.
Unlike the high–society women Lewis was accustomed to, Doris didn’t obsess over decorum or appearances. There was a refreshing honesty in the way she ate, unbothered by pretense. Even something as simple as quesadillas seemed to bring her genuine happiness.
“Is it really that good!” Lewis asked, his skepticism evident.
“Of course. The cheese and spices are balanced perfectly. The texture is divine, Doris insisted, practically glowing with enthusiasm. “You should really give it a try.”
Reluctantly, Lewis sighed, “Fine, I’ll try a little.”
“There’s some left in the kitchen. I’ll get you a plate,” Doris chirped, rising to fetch him a portion
Watching her walk away, Lewis called after her. Just a small piece is fine.”
Moments later, Doris returned, placing a modest serving of quesadillas in front of him. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation as she urged him silently to take a bite.
Lewis hesitated, picking up his fork with all the enthusiasm of a man facing a monumental challenge. ‘Why did I agree to
this? If I don’t eat now, it’ll seem like I’m te her effort. It’s just one bite. How bad can it be?‘ he thought.
Wed, 26 Feb
Chapter 9
After a brief internal pep talk, he speared a small piece and cautiously brought it to his mouth.
87%1
He chewed slowly, his initial frown softening as the flavors unfolded. The rich, melty cheese combined with perfectly spiced. seasoning in a way that awakened his palate. It was unlike anything he’d ever tasted.
“Well?” Doris asked, her voice brimming with expectation. “It’s good, right?”
“It’s….a
… acceptable,” Lewis replied, attempting to downplay the fact that he was genuinely impressed.
Doris beamed, her smile brighter than the morning sun, and returned to enjoying her meal with unabashed delight.
By the time Lewis noticed, the small plate in front of him was completely empty.
After breakfast, Lewis pulled out his sleek leather wallet, extracted a black card, and placed it on the table in front of Doris. The card gleamed faintly under the morning light, its simplicity exuding quiet luxury.
“What’s this supposed to mean?” Doris asked, her brows furrowing in confusion as she glanced between the card and Lewis.
Lewis explained, his tone calm yet matter–of–fact, “Since we’re living together now, I’ll transfer money into this card every month for household expenses. If it’s not enough, let me know, and I’ll adjust. Anything extra you need for the house, I’ll cover separately. The PIN is six nines.”
His explanation carried a sense of responsibility that momentarily stunned Doris. There was no arrogance, no strings attached–just an unspoken belief that providing was his duty as a married man.
“So, he’s the type of man who takes responsibility seriously, Doris thought, a hint of unexpected admiration creeping her heart.
into
“I originally said we wouldn’t have to live together after marriage, yet here I am intruding in your space,” she murmured with a self–deprecating smile, surprised by the sudden change of plans. “You’ve already been kind enough not to laugh at me. And now you’re offering me money…”
She hesitated, then continued, “I was planning to rent a place before all of this, but since I’m staying here now, consider household expenses as my rent. You really don’t need to give me extra money.”
any
Lewis arched a brow, his voice taking on a sharp edge of authority. “Have you ever heard of a wife paying her husband rent?”
Her checks flushed at the implication. “But we’re not a real couple, she countered quickly, feeling that they were more like
roommates.
Lewis leaned forward, bracing both hands on the edge of the table, his gaze narrowing with a teasing glint. His lips curled into a sly smirk “Thinking of making it real, are you?”
His gaze was sharp, filled with unspoken meaning, and his thoughts echoed, “What a clever little ploy
Doris felt her face heat like wildfire. Her checks turned a deep crimson, reminiscent of blooming roses under the summer. sun, both dazzling and unmissable.
She instinctively took a step back, waving her hands frantically in denial. “N–no. You misunderstood,” she stammered, her voice rising an octave.
Lewis straightened, the smirk never leaving his face. “If you don’t want me to misunderstand, then take the card.” He took his tailored suit jacket from the sofa and shrugged it on with an air of finality.
Left with no other choice, Doris reluctantly took the card. “Fine. I’ll take it,” she said. Her movements were deliberate, as if to prove that accepting the card meant nothing more than practicality. This should at least show him I have no ulterior motives, she thought
Lewis nodded, his voice turning businesslike. I’m usually swamped with work. You might have to take on more
13:04 Wed, 26 Feb A
Chapter 9
responsibilities around the house. I won’t have much time to help, but I can make up for it financially”
His tone was so pragmatic it left no room for argument. Doris could see the truth in his words.
Unknown to her, Lewis had only recently returned to the country to take up his new position. Now, as someone in such at high–ranking role, he was quite busy and his work understandably occupied much of his time.
“Alright,” she agreed with a firm nod.
Inwardly, she mused, ‘A home requires effort from both sides, not endless giving from one while the other only takes.
If he provides financially, I’ll make sure the home is well taken care of. I believe we can make this work–at the very least, it’ll be far easier than living under my parents‘ rool.”
Later, on her way to work, Doris caught sight of the same Rolls–Royce passing by the subway station. The glossy black finish reflected the sunlight like a mirror, exuding understated opulence.
That car costs more than I’ll ever make in a lifetime, she thought, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. Better stick to the grind and focus on earning my own living.
In the afternoon, as Doris finally found a moment to breathe at work, her phone buzzed with an incoming call from her mother. Doris answered it with a mix of surprise and unease.
“Doris, I’m at the entrance of your hotel. Peyton’s voice came through, tinged with urgency. “Do you have time to come out
and talk?”
AD
